Every Mother’s Day has a Mother’s Night…
First of all, thanks for putting up with my whining yesterday. The afternoon exhaustion hits me kind of hard (as you can tell), but I got a good night’s sleep and feel much better today. I’d also like to take this opportunity to invite you to mock my newbie-parent naïveté by telling you about the time ten months ago one of my bosses (father to two boys, ages 14 and 11) was telling me how damn tiring it was to have kids, and how he exists in a state of perpetual exhaustion. This elicited an inner eye roll from me, as I thought to myself “Bitch, please. You have children whose ages are in the double digits. They sleep through the night! They can feed themselves and can use a toilet without assistance!I have an INFANT! And you think you’re tired? SACK THE FUCK UP.”
Well, that’s what this mothering gig is all about, right? Learning and shit? And you know what it’s also about? Scoring another fucking HOLIDAY, motherfuckers! What-whaaaaaaaat!
Um, so, this was not the photo I was looking for, but COME ON.
Yes, this weekend is Mother’s Day — a holiday I used to hate because it meant ONE MORE opportunity to beat my head against the wall trying to come up with a gift idea for my Mom. But now it’s Brad and Sadie’s turn to sweat the gift-buying, and all I had to do is pass another person through my brewster!
This is actually my second Mother’s Day, which kind of blows my mind. We’re going to go out to dinner on Sunday to the very same restaurant we visited last year on Mother’s Day…although I imagine things will look very different this year. This is me on Mother’s Day last year:
(Said cans are, by the by, no longer with us. Like, for real. Sadie looks at my chest wistfully sometimes, all “This used to be my playground…“)
I also found this picture from Mother’s Day last, which I included because I totally remember taking this nap before we went out to dinner, but I IN NO WAY recall my child being this teensy:
In celebration of all mothers, mothers-to-be, and plain old bad ass motha-fuckas, I present to you two of my very favorite videos in the entire world. PLEASE watch them both. You will be very happy you did.
This next one will just have to be a link, because WordPress is a stupid whore when it comes to embedding video:
And now, because we all love to hate, I give you some very special excerpts from some very special Mother’s Day-themed forwards (thanks, Becky! Please send me a link to your bloggity-blog so I can include it here! THE WHOLE WORLD MUST KNOW THAT YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE FOLLOWING.):
Subject: Fwd: FW: NEWBORN’S CONVERSATION WITH GOD
Oh, MAN. I immediately cringe whenever people attempt to write dialogue for God.
So, in the original email, the following image was an animated gif in which the baby blinked and kind of, shimmied back and forth. Very disturbing. Although the static version of the image is just as disturbing because it looks like someone is about to release a baby into the darkest depths of the ocean after it accidentally got tangled up in a fucking crab net or some shit. DISTURBING.
Does anyone out there NOT see where this is headed?
Also, re: the part about the newborn being bummed about leaving his carefree singing and smiling days in heaven behind: are most babies born into labor-intensive factory jobs? Or high pressure academic programs? Because I’m pretty sure babies have a relatively open calendar upon bursting forth into the world. Unless Sadie had some conference calls and company mergers over the past year that I was not aware of.
You mean, how will you be able to understand people when they speak English to you, as in THE LANGUAGE YOU ARE SPEAKING RIGHT NOW?
“Or just txt me. But not on Tuesday nights — that’s when I watch Glee OMG GLEE!!!!!!”
“Oh, wait – unless you’re getting sent to Jive Turkey. Then it’s eternal hellfire for you, BYEEEE!!!”
And now, as a special addendum, a few exceptional excerpts from a forward I received this morning:
Subject: FWD: Mommy to Mom to Mother
Quiche is easy to make, assholes.
…until the government takes them away.
Hate to cut this short, but the rest is pretty terrible and nothing we haven’t torn to shreds before. Plus, I’m out the door for my final high school matinée of the show. Happy weekend and Happy Motha’s Day, my lovelies!